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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29733312">Lena and Chess</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/QUOM/pseuds/QUOM'>QUOM</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supergirl (TV 2015)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Chess, Family Dynamics, Gen, I barely know chess, I wrote this in an hour, I'm Bad At Tagging, No Spoilers, One Shot, Smart Lena Luthor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:27:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>938</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29733312</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/QUOM/pseuds/QUOM</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically, as a child, Lena is good at chess, and I'm bad at descriptions. My writing is better than my summary, I promise.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lena Luthor &amp; Lex Luthor, Lena Luthor &amp; Lex Luthor &amp; Lillian Luthor, Lena Luthor &amp; Lillian Luthor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Lena and Chess</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote this in an hour after a writer's block of a few months (yay me)<br/>Also, I decided not to use any names during this story, so...let's hope it would not be annoying :')<br/>Comments and constructive criticism is always appreciated!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It took her a few days to fully understand how the game works.<br/>
She laid in what they said is her bed, in what they said is her room, and felt completely out of place. She missed her old bed, which was standing on short legs, and her feet never could get to it's edge. She missed her old room, which smelled from grass and box games, and her mother's perfume. She missed her mother.<br/>
And the pain only grew at night. Because at night the bed would squeak as she laid in it, and the room would smell, and her mother would kiss her goodnight.<br/>
But she already found out that the pain will not bring her mother back. Because she told her she's her new mommy. Because from being an only child, she now has a brother. Because from having a single parent, she was forced to have two.<br/>
So she stayed awake, her feet dangling from the side of the bed. The small part of her that believed in monsters made her glad to tease them. 'Take me. No one would mind, trust me'.<br/>
She listened to them play, she only got a peek at the board, black and white squares, unique figures. The two would announce their moves, which she was thankful for, because the house's usual silence was too much. They would leave the board as it was to be rearranged in the evening, which she was glad for, it was easier to learn the game once she had figures to name. White lost, always, but he also had at least one piece of black on his side of the table. She remembered him grinning in the morning after he had nine pieces on his side. The grin did not last to the following morning.<br/>
After a few days she heard him make a mistake. He made them quite often, but she would normally not notice those. But she did, and was rather conflicted as for what she should do. They would definitely not appreciate her opinion, she decided. Instead she found a little pencil and a piece of paper, writing down his moves and what she would do if she was there. As she laid in bed after he lost, she could see the piece of paper floating in her dreams.<br/>
It only increased the days after.<br/>
She sat and wrote her moves each night, the paper slid into her pillow perfectly, and she would dream about magnificent boards, paper with cursive writing, and shouts of directions. She did not know if they would be mad, but she did not want to find out. She did not take any risks with them. They all had the same smile, of ones who know they can get away with anything they wished to. So she listened to them, smiled whenever they chose, acted the way they wanted. And the torn pieces of paper were the only evidence of her thinking on her own.<br/>
She never knew how quickly she would grow tired of it.<br/>
She heard him making another wrong move and closed her hand angrily around the pencil. It was painfully obvious why this move would lead to him losing, and what he needed to do to avoid that. He made another wrong move, and she left the bed. She could hear the logical part of her telling her to go back, that they hopefully did not hear the door slamming against a wall, but she carried on. It was the first time she entered a room in the house without knocking.<br/>
“Yes?” An arch of an eyebrow, she felt herself freeze under the cold eyes. “She probably just had a nightmare, mother, let’s continue.” He sounded arrogant, he is definitely her son. His hand hovered above the pieces, no longer paying attention to her, but the woman’s eyes remained. “Stop.” She said, almost in a whisper, as he grabbed the wrong figure. He turned his head, his eyes darken, just a bit, hers looked like a sea in a storm. “What?” He might have a similar look in his eyes, but not the same composure.<br/>
“It’s the wrong move.” She pressed her lips in an insistent expression, because every part of her knew she was right. “I’m doubtful you even know how to play, so go back-” “wait.” Her voice was not as cold as her eyes, but the girl still did not trust her. “Then what is, pray tell, is the right move?”<br/>
She looked at her clamped hand, the note’s edges poking through. She could not really see a way for it to end well.<br/>
She approached the table, her head barely passing the table. Picking immediately a figure, she knew she won. “And what if I do this?” A larger hand moved a black figure to see the child’s reaction. “Then I would do this.” She moved a white piece to counter, from the corner of her eye she saw him frown in confusion. ‘Why is a kid better than me?’ She amused herself thinking what he was wondering.<br/>
“Focus.” The sentence was an order, but was said in a soft tone that did not match the woman. She focused.<br/>
They did not announce their moves out loud, the room was silent aside from the harsh thumps of the wood against wood. She could not feel the blood beating loudly in her ears, her breaths clam.<br/>
She moved another piece, knowing it would be the last one for now. “Checkmate.” She said, his fingers grabbing the chair with anger and bafflement.<br/>
The next morning she grinned, white has won.</p>
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